I'll Never Forget
by staringatstars07
Summary: In the hazy space between wakefulness and sleep, Mabel says goodbye to a new-ish friend. (#3 of the Twintale series)


There's a gentle heat on her cheek, a soft crackle, and a firm surface beneath her head that smells pleasantly sweet with a tinge of smoke. Still locked in the sleep haze, she thinks dreamily of burned sugar as memories of camping trips filled with roasted marshmallows bob to the surface of her mind.

Amidst the crackle and heat, there is an oddly sibilant whisper, rising and falling in a lilting cadence, an ebb and flow that aligns itself effortlessly to the flat chuckling emanating from the space beside her. It's only then that the strangeness of it all begins to truly wake her from her doze. There was a mahogany counter beneath her head when there should have been a pillow, a bar stool beneath her where there should have been a fluffy mattress.

Sans must have seen her stir, because when her head jerked backwards in surprise, her skull crashed into his jaw, causing him to reel on his stool. Hands cupped around tender bone while she clapped her palms over the growing lump on her head with a series of pained hisses.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Gasping with wide, panicked eyes, she asked, "Did I die again? Is that it?"

"kid, that's not-"

But she wasn't listening. It was too hard to hear him over the pounding in her ears, and the words kept spilling without any sign of stopping, "I died and now I have to do it everything all over again." She whipped around, searching the bar wildly while its patrons continued to chat without any sign of having heard her. Finally, she turned to Sans, acknowledging the skeleton's presence for the first time. "Where's Dipper?" Distantly, a growing pain in her chest began to register, a constriction in her lungs. "Sans, you have to help me! I have to find him. I-"

Skeletal fingers gripped her shoulders in an attempt to give her something tangible to focus on, "woah, calm down, kiddo." Mabel stuttered as her thoughts crashed and slammed into each other. "breathe. come on. deep breathe in." Concentrating on him, Mabel sucked down a breath, forcing air into her lungs. "and deep breathe out." When her lungs deflated, Mabel was surprised to find that the sting in her chest had lost its teeth. Sans watched her for a moment, shared a glance with Grillby, and then jabbed a thumb towards the door. "let's go outside, okay? get you some fresh air." In a sudden burst of inspiration, he added, "don't worry about the meal. good ol' sans has you covered."

With a good-natured sigh, Grillby put the glass he'd been cleaning on the counter, " _And I suppose you want me to add it to your tab?_ " He crossed his arms. " _At least you're not running out without paying your bill this time_."

Surprise flitted over the skeleton's features. He shoved his hands in his pockets, shutting one eye as the sudden tension in his shoulders gradually melted into an easy shrug, "you remember that, do ya?

" _A flame never forgets._ "

Sans rolled that over in his head before replying with a note of patent disbelief and not a small amount of awe, "you just made that up."

Chuckling, Grillby amended, " _A flame never forgets, though it may fib from time to time._ "

And while Mabel didn't quite smile at the exchange, there was a twitch at the corner of her mouth that suggested she wanted to, which could only be counted as an improvement.

She didn't protest when Sans guided her outside. Her breath bloomed into misty petals the moment she stepped into the cold, spreading and rising before the wind caught it and swept it away. Above, a clear night sky could be seen, a deep sea blue with stars that twinkled and sparked like polished pearls. But Sans didn't stop at the clearing. He kept trudging forward through the snow in soaked slippers until they reached the edge of Snowdin forest.

Then he dragged a palm over his face, causing Mabel to cringe at the harsh sound of bone rubbing against bone. "look... you did't die," he said, after finally turning to look at her. "if I had to guess, i'd say you just fell asleep."

Though her fists squeezed bunches of her sweater at her sides and the act of tearing her gaze from the glistening white snow at her feet seemed impossible, Mabel eventually managed to say with a voice that was worryingly and uncharacteristically small, "…but how do you know?"

Shuffling forward to duck into her line of sight, Sans replied with his typical grin, "because you're asleep." He offered a shrug that rolled effortlessly off his shoulders. "dreaming, to be exact."

Mabel was so stunned by the revelation that she almost missed it when Sans starting walking again, this time into the forest. Surprisingly, she found she had to jog to keep up with him. "Dreaming? What would you be doing in my dream, Sans?"

"what?" He responded, holding up his open palms in mock-offense. "can't a guy pay a visit to a new-ish friend without an ulterior motive?"

Before Mabel could formulate a response that could accurately convey how little confidence that inspired in her, Sans suddenly stopped at the foot of an oak tree with a thick trunk and low-hanging branches. He gave it an appraisingly glance before nodding, seemingly satisfied. Then he gripped a branch at about eye level, tested its sturdiness, and swung himself on top of it with one fluid motion.

Initially, when he held out a hand for Mabel to grab onto, the best she could do was stare like he'd grown a second head. Noticing her gobsmacked expression, Sans allowed himself a chuckle, "going up?"

She hesitated a moment too long before making a grab for it, upon which she found his grip to be surprisingly firm. "easy, kiddo." Though he hefted her up with a grunt of effort, his hold on her never weakened. "i'm not gonna let you fall."

It wasn't until each of them were seated on one of the highest boughs with the impossible moon in full view, their legs dangling in the empty air, that Sans finally asked, "how're you doing, bud?"

Slowly, weighing out the words, judging the taste of each on her tongue, Mabel replied, "Good, I think." It was strange to see her own breath steaming in front of her while the air in front of Sans remained entirely unperturbed. She shivered, rubbing her own arms up and down to get the blood flowing properly because adding, "Dipper doesn't remember the bad stuff. At least… I don't think he does."

It was such a quiet night. The moon was perfectly round and beautiful, shining like a lighthouse to guide lost sailors home. But Mabel wasn't lost, anymore. Even so, "He has nightmares, sometimes," there were times when she wondered if they'd ever really left the Underground, or if some part of them would always be wandering, always be searching, for the home they'd already found.

What were you supposed to do when finding your way home wasn't enough, because home didn't feel like home and neither did anywhere else?

Sans listened without comment until he was sure she was finished, "i could probably help with that," Mabel whipped to face him, her light brown eyes wide and gleaming feverishly bright in the moonlight, "but only if you both agreed to it. this sort of decision isn't something you should make on your own."

It wasn't a reprimand, per se. More like preemptive advice. Mabel stalled for time while she thought the offer over by fidgeting with her sweater and shifting restlessly. Finally, after a long deliberation, during which Sans didn't make a sound, she forced out the words she'd wanted to say, each one coming out strained, like drops of water eking out of a frozen pipe, "No. I think… This is something he needs to face and, I mean, it's up to him, but… I…"

When she found herself stumbling, floundering, Sans gently supplied, "…you don't want to be alone. sure, you tell yourself you're not because he's right next to you, but you're alone with the memory, and it's not… it could be so much worse… but it doesn't feel too great, either, does it?"

And she didn't want to cry, didn't want to fall apart, but the tears were welling up and her throat was thick and her hands were curled in his hoodie, "I hate it. I really hate it, Sans."

A howl ripped from her lungs as she buried her face in the soft, ketchup-scented blue fabric of Sans' hoodie, pressing against him like she could fall straight through. And then there were hands on her back to keep her from scattering into pieces, and skeletal fingers stroking her head with careful motions so as not to catch her hair. And if the jacket started to get a little soggy where Mabel screamed and sobbed and wailed into the fabric, neither of them mentioned it.

Much later, after Mabel had pulled back to wipe the stubborn, clinging tears away, Sans spread his hands out behind him and leaned back to get a better view of the stars. They were so much brighter on moonless nights, but he could still make out a few. Technically, though, this was all a dream – in the waking world, the stars and the moon didn't shine in the Underground - but just because it was a dream didn't mean it wasn't real.

Quietly, Sans asked, "why do you think the stars shine, mabel?" She looked up at him with a sniff. "it's not like anyone ever thanks them for burning their lives away. some of them might already be gone, and none of us would be the wiser."

Following his gaze, Mabel watching the twinkling starlight with a thoughtful expression as she rolled the questions over in her mind. It wasn't long before she came to a conclusion. "if they didn't shine, then how else could they find each other?" Feeling exhaustion creeping up on her after all of the energy she'd spent emptying her heart out, she leaned against Sans so that her head rested on his jacket sleeve and interlocked an elbow with his. "And as for the ones who are already gone, isn't it nice that their friends still have their lights to remember them by?" A yawn escaped her. "It's almost like they're not really gone, at all."

Sans made a soft noise. Thoughtful. "huh. not so different from us, then, are they?"

Pressed against his side and with his arm slung over his shoulders, Mabel could almost convince herself this wasn't goodbye, but in the moonlight's gentle shroud, the forest had gained an ephemeral quality; like she could blink and it would all disappear.

Maybe it would.

"We're really lucky, you know?" She muttered sleepily, as the world began to blur and the snow-coated grounded glistened with stardust. "If we weren't, saying goodbye wouldn't hurt so much."

And though there was no outward change, as the dream reached its inevitable end, Sans squeezed her a little closer. Then she was gone, the space behind him empty, leaving him alone with the night sky. Leaning back against the tree trunk, and ignoring the pine needles and sap that stuck to his clothes as a consequence, he tilted his head up to regard the stars one last time, knowing that each of them was so much farther away then they appeared.

With a heavy sigh, Sans climbed wearily to his feet.

It was a new day on the surface.

Time to wake up and greet it.


End file.
